For his 3rd birthday present last year, Auntie BB gave Zachy his first ever tennis racket, a tin of tennis balls and lessons for
life as long as he wants to have them for.
They are all very sporty on the Greek God(zilla)’s side of the family.
Unlike me, who was too busy trying to look cool to be seen running about in tracky pants getting all hot and sweaty.
The Greek God(zilla) and his sisters have played sport all of their lives and will often still play tennis together for fun.
I suppose growing up in Wimbledon, it would have been rude for them not to.
I know that the Greek God(zilla) is secretly hoping that Zachy will inherit his love of sport. Except, there is nothing really that secret about it in the slightest.
Obviously, I agree with him that it would be absolutely brilliant if Zachy loves sports, but will be equally as enthusiastic if he decides that learning to play a musical instrument is more his thing. Or writing, art, or drama.
Up to him.
All I can do is make sure that he has ample opportunities to experience a wide variety of new and different interests and then support whichever ones he is the most passionate about.
When Zachy first opened his new made-to-measure tennis racket (seriously, she spoils him too much), he held it up in wonder for about a minute or so before going back to playing with his new Buzz Lightyear doll.
But until they make tennis rackets with retractable wings that also have the ability to light up and speak 50 different phrases, then I suspect this may always be the way for most three year olds.
It did not take very long to find a tennis class for him in our local area, but it did take a bit longer for a place to become available on it.
We have been on a waiting list for swimming lessons for around 18-months so I really hoped this was not going to be the case for every single local activity for kids.
Fortunately, we had to wait just a few (6) months and this weekend Zachy attended his first ever tennis lesson.
And, he sat on the side clinging to my leg for most of it.
Every time one of the lovely young coaches tried to engage him by throwing the ball in his direction, or asking him to join the other children for a warm-up, he stuck out his bottom lip and turned his face away from them.
At one point, he just walked off the court.
‘It’s ok, we’ll just watch this week’ I reassured him. So he sat there on my lap and we watched from the sidelines.
The kids were split up into groups and took turns to hit balls over the net, run in between the cones, and tidy up the balls and return them to the basket.
A stray ball landed at our feet.
‘Let’s go and put this back in the basket’ I suggested
Zachy hopped down from my lap, picked up the ball and edged closer and closer to the tennis court where the basket of balls was placed.
The coach was really good with him and very gently asked if he would like to help her tidy up the other balls. Zachy nodded and then off he went collecting balls in his upside down cone, and emptying them back into the basket.
The Greek God(zilla) and I slowly inched further and further away.
In the blink of an eye, Zachy was balancing a tennis ball on his racket while carefully navigating the course; was attempting to hit balls over the net in a one-on-one with a tennis coach; and was practicing dribbling a ball with his racket.
He was not so good at waiting patiently, or at taking his turn to swing his racket, but he was on the court without anyone holding his hand.
He kept looking over to us to make sure we were still there and watching him. We’d wave and he would beam back at us.
Just 15-minutes later, he charged over to us both with his arms outstretched for a big cuddle.